Those Left Behind: Gathering the Remains
by Shaded Mazoku
Summary: With Magus gone, the humans launch an all out attack at the Mystic race, no matter how peaceful some of them are. It's up to the Mystic trio to do something before it's too late. They start by gathering the remaining Mystics.


Title: Those Left Behind: Gathering the Remains.  
Author: Shaded Mazoku.  
Email: 1/1.  
Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. Chrono Trigger and its characters belong to Square Enix. I merely borrow them for my own amusement.  
Warnings: None, really, for this part. A bit of angst, maybe.  
Rating: PG 13.  
Summary: After the defeat of Lavos, life went back to normal for most people. But for the Mystics, without a proper leader or plan, things are getting bad. The army of Guardia wants to be rid of the Mystic threat once and for all, and Magus' former generals might not be able to stop them.  
Pairing(s): None for this part.  
Fandom: Chrono Trigger

Riizza was afraid. Like all of her village, she lived in constant fear of attack from Guardia these days. The humans seemed to have decided to put a final end to the ancient conflict between their races, and they were mostly powerless to stop it. Their village was made up of Mystics without the skills to fight those who had gone to serve in Sir Magus' castle had. Mostly imps and their Roly and Poly pets, but also a number of Naga-ettes, Shadows, Vamps and even a Diablos or two.

Riizza was a Naga-ette, but unlike most of her kind, she'd never been thought fighting and magic. Her family were traditionally engaged in various crafts, and focused on producing items of different kinds. Though most of their race was involved in the war one way or another, there was still a need for some to remain behind and produce goods. Riizza was a tailor by trade, though after the humans started getting closer, she'd helped the healers, since she had skills with needle and thread that were invaluable as they had a limited supply of healing tonics and the likes.

However, for each day that went, more tales of human troops getting closer and closer to their little village were heard amongst the villagers, the rumors spreading like brushfire. Several families had fled the village already, choosing to rather face the uncertain fate of fugitives than what they felt was certain death.

Sighing, Riizza curled her tail around herself and went back to her work. She and the other tailors of the village were busy making sturdy clothing in case the village had to be evacuated. She really missed the days when Sir Magus had been their leader. The humans had been too afraid of him to try anything like their current "kill all Mystics" campaign. Though Sir Ozzie was trying his best, she was sure, the humans just didn't fear him as they had Sir Magus.

She couldn't help but wonder which side had begun the conflict in the first place, but she knew it was pointless to dwell on it. The conflict had lasted for centuries, and with Sir Magus as a leader, it had developed into full scale war. Riizza doubted it'd end in her lifetime. Of course, with human troops out to exterminate them all and coming closer every day, she doubted she'd live much longer at all.

There was a sudden loud noise as the door was slammed open and a small green imp came running into the room, breathing hard. For a minute, Riizza half expected humans to come crashing in behind the imp, so sudden was the intrusion.

"Riizza!" The imp exclaimed, catching her breath. Riizza sighed in relief as she recognized the little green Mystic. Tes was a good friend of hers. Sadly, imps really did look very identical, making it hard to tell them apart even when one knew them well.

"What's wrong, Tes?" Riizza asked, putting her work away. Despite her relief that there didn't seem to be an attack, she was worried, considering how worked up the imp seemed.

Tes took a deep breath and leaned on the door frame. "The elder said to gather all the villagers," she said, her high-pitched voice and rapid speech making the sentence hard to understand. "He said it was important. You have to come! Hurry!"

Riizza gave Tes a pointed look. It was hard for her to hurry with no legs, and Tes knew it. Still, she slithered off as fast as she could, not bothering to lock the door behind herself. She had nothing worth stealing anyway, and if everyone was gathered, there wouldn't be anyone around to steal anything.

Tes lead the way to the town square, running ahead for a while and then back to Riizza, back and forth all the time. Riizza really wanted to know where imps got their energy from. Pretty much the entire village was already gathered at the town square when Riizza arrived, all of them looking as confused as she felt. She could see the elder, an old, retired Hench, pace back and forth on the dais that had once held a statue of Sir Magus, but that was now empty. He kept looking over the gathered crowd nervously.

A few more stragglers joined the crowd, and the elder cleared his throat, standing up as straight as he could.

"As you all have heard," he said, fingering the chain holding the medal marking him as the elder of the village, "human troops are getting closer each day. Earlier today, I received a message by a carrier Vamp, telling that the Omnicrone outpost by the Guardia border have been destroyed."

A surprised murmur went through the crowd. The Omnicrones were among the best fighters of the Mystic armies. If they had been defeated, then surely there wasn't much hope for the rest of them. Riizza shivered and pulled the shawl she wore closer around her shoulders. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see many others do similar things.

The elder continued. "Though they were defeated, they did a last service to our people." He looked around again, his gaze drifting from one place to another constantly. "Not only did they manage to send off a message to us here at the village, they also managed to send a specially trained messenger off to the Fortress."

This was met with careful cheering. Getting messages through to their leaders had been near impossible after an assassin had taken out their Sorceror, because non-magical messages were nearly always intercepted. The news of a message getting through was most welcome. However, what their leaders could do was unknown. The Mystic army had been soundly defeated by the humans' Sir Frog and his allies.

"I know that they succeeded in getting the message through," the elder said, forcing himself to stand properly and stop fidgeting. "Because I got a message from the leaders not long ago, telling me to gather you here."

That explained his nervousness. Even the elder didn't know what was going on. Not that she could blame him for being nervous. The leaders were bound to have that effect on someone. She had only seen one of the leaders in real life, Sir Ozzie, and that had been years ago, but she still remembered that though his shape wasn't very intimidating, the aura of magic that followed him had been very much so.

A Diablos who had risen into the air and was fluttering its wings as fast as possible to hover in place spoke up. "Why did the leaders want us gathered here, then?" He asked. "Hopefully it was more than a flight of fancy." Many Mystics had begun to loose faith in the leaders. The elder turned a disturbing shade of pale olive and prepared to answer.

"We have our reasons."

The voice who had spoken did not belong to the elder. Nor to any other of the gathered Mystics. None of them had that kind of voice, soft and melodic, but with an edge of something deadly and barely restrained.

A figure appeared next to the elder on the dais, a figure dressed in a fanciful gown in deep pink and black, with long pink hair and eyes that matched the gown perfectly. The figure almost looked human, but if the pointed ears hadn't given the true race off, the aura of raw power it radiated would have.

The newcomer smiled, and Riizza had a sudden urge to please. Judging by their reactions, most of the crowd felt the same way.

"I am Flea," the stranger said, "The Magician." The title was spoken in a way that made the capitalization audible.

The crowd broke into murmurs again. Riizza remained silent, watching the newcomer. If that truly was General Flea, and every sign seemed to point that way, then surely there would be some good news. The general was said to be one of the most powerful mages ever. 'As powerful as he is beautiful', the rumor had it, and nobody could deny his beauty, not when they saw him with their own eyes.

Flea raised his hand, signaling for the crowd to be silent. "I realize," he said, letting his eyes glide across the gathered crowd, "that you are skeptical. I'd be, too, in your situation. All I ask is that you hear what I have to say. I hope you will do me that favor."

Riizza found herself nodding, along with the rest of the crowd.

"The three of us have discussed the situation and possible solutions for a long time, and we have gone over them again and again, to see every little flaw and disadvantage. Sadly, none of our plans are completely without flaws. No plan ever will be. But we have come up with one that will at least provide much more protection than you have now while we keep planning." He gave a slight little smile, but it was without any trace of mirth. "After all, all our planning will be for nothing if you are attacked while we plan."

The elder, who had been gawking at Flea like everyone else, spoke up, though his voice was shaking. "What did you come up with, General Flea?" Unlike his colleagues and master, Flea preferred the title of 'general' to the one of 'sir'. Probably because it wasn't gender specific.

Flea smiled. "Ozzie and I have developed a way to create a gateway from one place to another, using the basics of our teleportation skills. We will set up a gate leading from this village to the Fortress, where you'll be much safer than you are here." He held up a little orb that glittered in the sunlight. "All of you should go gather whatever belongings you wish to bring. Take what you think you'll need, but please, not more than you can carry."

As Mystics in general were quite strong and could carry a lot, this wasn't as hard as it might have been. Riizza didn't have many personal belongings she wanted to take, only some outfits and heirloom jewelry, but she took as many of her fabrics and sewing supplies as she could. She was sure a tailor would have plenty to do at the Fortress as well.

She returned to the town square earlier than most of the villagers, who had more they wished to take. Not that she minded waiting. She watched General Flea instead, who was drawing arcane symbols on a pair of stone pillars, occasionally murmuring incantations under his breath that made the symbols blaze with a silvery white light for a moment, before fading, leaving their shapes etched into the stone.

Riizza was fascinated. All Mystics had magical powers, but only a few were true mages, with the ability to actually cast spells. She had never seen a mage before, and watching him prepare for whatever spell he planned was very interesting.

The Mystic leaders were always being talked about among the Mystics, and she'd heard a lot about Flea, who was generally considered the most dangerous of them, because of his strong magic. He was also said to be the one of the three the humans feared the most, because of his ability to change his shape into anything. While he didn't look very dangerous at the moment, it wasn't easy to look dangerous when you're a small pink-haired man in a dress; none of the Mystics doubted his identity or power. They were used to creatures that were more dangerous than they looked.

Flea was said to have a terrible temper when provoked. To Riizza, he didn't seem bad tempered, but then, he had no real reason to be. He certainly didn't seem to mind her watching. Not that she was the only one; several other Mystics had arrived and were watching the pink-haired general work. Tes was among them, stretching up on her toes to see better. Once she saw Riizza, though, she put her bags down next to the Naga-ette and climbed up to perch on her shoulder.

"You think we'll be safe at the Fortress?" The little imp asked her friend, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Riizza bit her lip. "I'm sure we'll be safer there than we are here. But entirely safe?" She looked down, watching the worn patio under her tail, worn down by generation upon generation of Mystics. It was strange leaving their ancestral home. "I don't think we're completely safe anywhere, as long as there are humans."

Tes made a sad sound. "I fear that you're right," she said. They'd all lost someone in the recent increase in attacks.

Flea stepped back and put away the chalk he'd used for his drawings, picking up the orb instead. It seemed to be a smaller, portable version of the orbs their Sorceror had used to keep contact with the Fortress. Whatever it was, Flea seemed to be listening to something coming from the orb.

"Stand back," he suddenly said, and took another step back himself.

The crowd, both anxious and excited to see what would happen next, obeyed, moving back to give the mage room.

Flea smiled, and lifted his hands, the air around them darkening like a solar eclipse. The darkness seeped from his hands and in between the two pillars, creating a strange, spiraling pattern. The pattern was pulsing and growing, until it resembled a floating inkblot that someone had blown at, so that it had arms stretching out to all sides. Unlike ink, though, the dark area was pulsing with several colors; black, red and pale blue in a mesmerizing pattern. Flea stretched his arms out to the sides, and the darkness seemed to split open, revealing a tunnel seemingly leading into nothingness.

Apparently satisfied, Flea lowered his hands, and stepped to the side before turning to face the crowd. "The portal will lead you to the main hall of the Fortress," he said, a disturbing hint of weariness in his voice. "I will go through last, to close it behind us so that nobody can follow."

Slowly, the crowd moved forwards, disappearing one by one into the still pulsing portal. Riizza lifted Tes' bags up to her, so the imp didn't have to leave her perch on her shoulder. The crowd was large enough to get lost in, even if it was frighteningly small compared to what it had once been.

Riizza closed her eyes as she passed through the portal, feeling the odd tingle of magical energy around her on all sides. It felt almost like passing through a wall of water, if water could be near-unbearably hot and icy cold at the same time. When she opened her eyes again, she was in a hall, and she guessed it was the Fortress' main hall, as Flea had said. All around her were other Mystics, both from her village and strangers that she'd never seen before, whom she guessed were inhabitants of the Fortress.

Then, as was she, now, and her life would never be the same again. They might be safe here for now, but for how long would that last? For now, she would cling to the hope that eventually, the leaders would find a solution. She wasn't ready to face the other alternative just yet. The whispering about "the Mystics' last stand" wasn't very encouraging, though. Not at all.

She wondered where they would go from here.

Author's notes: This is a prologue to a much larger story, but the main story won't be started until I've finished A Trial of Hearts. I wasn't sure if I was going to upload it at all, before the story was being worked on, but I think it works pretty well on its own. Feel free to tell me what you think.


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